


Nails

by Str4y



Series: Heat [1]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Burns, Character Death, Crucifixion, Crying, Cults, Delirium, Drug Use, Fictional Religion & Theology, Fire, Fuckbuddies, Heavy Angst, Hyunho - Freeform, I'm Going to Hell, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Murder, Pain, Religion, Religious Cults, Screaming, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, Swearing, Unhealthy Relationships, minchan, please read the notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 10:21:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19721722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Str4y/pseuds/Str4y
Summary: Minho fucks a lot. He fucks Chan, he fucks half the campus, he fucks everyone. Minho isn’t religious at all, and he actually thinks religion is silly. But who cares when a hot super religious freshman’s trying to fuck? Minho loves to fuck.Maybe he just had to accept Hyunjin’s offer to go to his church. Just this once. For his birthday.Minho made a mistake.





	Nails

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for the worst summary to date. I wrote this fic in like three days and I don’t want to give away the entire fic by stating what happens in the summary. HOWEVER please not that this fic isn’t fluff at all. It’s fucked up. 
> 
> D I S C L A I M E R 
> 
> -I only put the implied noncon/rape tag for a scene where Minho and Hyunjin are in the church where it can be perceived as non con since Minho is affected by a powder in the candles(even though Minho is very okay with the actual sex bits besides a certain action he mentions later that has nothing to do with sex) but I’m putting this to be safe and give warning to anyone who may find it off-putting. The only non con thing is the implied drug use. 
> 
> -There is descriptive character death in this fic. Don’t read it that makes your uncomfortable please. I believe I’ve tagged everything accordingly. 
> 
> -I’m not linking this to any religion. Yeah, there’s a few mentions of crosses but I’m not linking it to Christianity or Judaism in any way. The religion in this fic is 100% made up and let’s be real, it’s a cult. I would never intentionally pin this on any religion because this specific cult is sick and twisted and made-up.

Religion was never anything Minho could find interest in. There was just nothing to the array of deities and practices. None of it ever clicked. Even as a child, growing up going to services and praying before bed, nothing ever truly resonated with Minho. He wasn’t religious. He never would be. Nothing could ever change that. Not the scoldings from his parents, nor the lectures from his peers about how believing nothing existed beyond earth was possible. 

But Minho ignored all of that. He knew who he was and how he felt about religion. It was silly. Very silly to him. So silly that anytime someone had tried to invite him to their church he’d laugh. He never meant to. It wasn’t like Minho thought people were stupid for believing in some sky daddies, oh wait. He did think it was stupid. He couldn’t help it. They made it so easy. Sky Gods and afterlives. Numerous gods that would rule. Stupid. All stupid. 

He didn’t mean to laugh at Hyunjin. He didn’t mean to ever really hurt people. It just kind of happened. It wasn’t his fault, mostly. 

“Why not?” Hyunjin pressed, holding his books over his waist, suspenders attached to the boyish plaid shorts he was wearing. He looked so innocent. So childish. So naive. 

“You realize that I’m the least religious person in the entire campus, right? Why do you keep asking me, Jinnie?” Minho rocked on the heels of his feet, arms crossed as his sky smile filled his features, “I’m never going to say yes.”

Hyunjin pouted, beret only making him look smaller despite his tall height, “one day you’ll say yes. I would really like that to be now. I promise you won’t regret it, Minho.”

Of course he would. Whatever church Hyunjin went to must have been dandy as fuck. And Minho clearly wasn’t interested in dandy. Every other week Hyunjin offered to bring Minho. Every. Other. Week. 

“I’m sure I’ll never say yes, Hyunjin.” Minho corrected, letting his arms fall, head tilting to get a better look at Hyunjins falling expression, “maybe you can get Changbin or Seungmin to go play at your little church. Praise Jesus and all!” Minho teaser, tugging at one of the younger boys straps, watching as it snapped against his chest. 

Hyunjins face was a soft pink. Of course it was. Minho knew Hyunjin crushed on him. For nearly a year. Ever since Hyunjin started school, he’d been so attached to Minho. It was cute. Minho would have had sex with him by now, but the religion shit...Hyunjin was too into it. 

“I-it’s not that kind of church.” Hyunjin frowned, tucking loose brown hair behind his cute ear. “It’s fun. It’d be really fun.”

“Hyunjin, you know I’m never going. Like ever—“

“Can you just come once. It’s my birthday! I’m finally going to be an adult. It’s my...it’s that birthday.”

Minho couldn’t fight the smile that spread across his lips. /that/ birthday, huh? 

“Aww, You want hyung to attend your coming of age? That’s precious.” Minho laughed, closing the space between them, his own hips brushing against the books in Hyunjins grasp, “well...maybe I can make an exception. Just for your special day.”

Hyunjin let out a shaky breath, not seeming to realize they were outside in the open. “Y-you would? Really?” 

There was the cutest glint of hope in Hyunjins eyes. And Minho would be the biggest douche if he didn’t accept Hyunjins offer. It was the boys birthday, afterall. 

Minho presses his fingers to Hyunjins neck, leaning in real close, lips brushing along the boy’s ear. He could hear Hyunjin gasp, but he’d ignore that for now, “just this once.”

Hyunjin would have probably melted if Minho hadn’t pulled off so quickly, gripping the strap of his bag now, “You know where I live. Pick me up and we’ll head over to your little party.” Minho snorted, eyes half lidded to purposefully make Hyunjin even more turned on, adding a simple bite to his own bottom lip to seal the deal. 

Hyunjin was probably soaked. He was averting his gaze, lips trembling. Yeah, totally wet. “I-I okay that sounds great. I’ll pick you up tonight.”

“Tonight?” Minho inquired, “isn’t your birthday tomorrow?”

“Ah, the event is at midnight.” Minho sighed internally as Hyunjin spoke. Midnight? Really? “I promise it will be nice!”

Minho scoffed, reaching out to cup Hyunjins cheek carefully, “Fine. I’ll do that. Just for you.”

Hyunjins face lit up. Like he’d won the lottery or some shit. “Thank you so much!” Soon the lanky boy had his arms tight around Minhos neck. Jesus Christ. He was definitely annoying. But he was hot, too. Minho couldn’t dismiss that. Maybe he’d give him his first fuck as an official adult. Midnight he’d tear the boys clothes off and give him the best present he could. He knew that was what Hyunjin probably wanted anyways. Not some weird religious service and bread or whatever. He wanted to get fucked. For sure. 

“I’ll dress real pretty for you.”

“Wear black. That buttoned shirt that you never button up all the way.” 

“Oh? That one?” Minho laughed, arching his brow, “is this a party church?”

“Just do it.” Hyunjin beamed, gripping his books tightly now, “I’ll see you tonight, okay? It’ll be so nice.”

Would it? Minho pondered that. He wasn’t sure what kind of shit this church was into, but if he could wear his fancy black blouse and have his sinful chest out, they must’ve been pretty open. That was good. They wouldn’t mind Minho being there one bit. 

“You finally accepted your little church boys offer, huh?” Chan was rest besides Minho, blonde head of hair settled nicely against the younger males shoulder, “You just doing it to fuck or nah?”

Minho stretched himself a moment before rolling Chan over, the blonde quickly slipping against Minhos chest, “maybe I am.”

Chan let a soft smirk cross his lips, reaching his fingers to press along Minhos plump lips, “you could always stay and fuck me instead.”

“You wish.” Minho rolled his eyes before looping his arms around Chan’s back, tilting his head to the blonde who used to be so enthralled with him. “We did pretty well back then, huh?”

“Yeah, too bad you’re a frequent flyer.” 

“That is too bad.”

Minho felt the pull, so sudden but expected. Chan always tasted so good. He really wished they were more compatible, more stable. But all they were together was a good time. They didn’t click. Just like Minho didn’t click with religion. And it totally sucked. Because the way chan was sucking on his tongue was heavenly. 

Minho let a soft whine, tightening his grip around Chan as the elder started to rut against him, causing Minho to shudder in pleasure. Chan was so unfair. So dirty and childish. He knew Minho had places to be in a few hours, but he still riled him up. Every time. Sometimes he wished they’d parted ways after the break up. But they were just so fucking hot together. 

Chan has a very meticulous way of fucking him. Sometimes Minho would take the lead, but tonight Chan had Minho wrapped around his finger. Of course Chan had promised to be considerate since Minho had to go out in a few hours and deal with the cute freshie boy. 

“Chan!” Minho gasped, silver strands of hair covering his eyes as the cool surface of Chan’s desk held him together. 

It was always really satisfying. God he hoped Hyunjin would be as good. If that’s why Hyunjin invited him, that is. Minho had to keep reminding himself that there was a small chance Hyunjin really did just want to invite him to church. But there was no way. He wanted to bang. 

Speaking of bang. 

“Oh fuck Chan!”

Minho gripped the desk now, sweat covering his forehead as his mouth gaped, the sound of the desk smacking the wall and Chan’s hips against his own was absolute music. The best melody. He would never give this up, that was for sure. 

“Minho I’m close.” Chan moaned, voice staggered as he leaned in, teeth nibbling the pointiest part of Minhos ears, only intensifying it all. Chan really knew how to fuck him. 

“Just do it—“ Minho whined, right hand gripping behind Chan, nails digging into the soft pale skin that could have been more plush. Maybe Hyunjins ass would be more satisfying. 

A few more pumps and Chan was spilling himself over Minhos back, soft grunts leaving the animalistic man’s lips. Chan always sounded so fucking hot. Like a wolf. God, Minho loved how Chan sounded after sex. He was just so sexy. 

Minho laughed, legs wobbly as Chan helped him upright, lips glued to Minhos sweaty neck now. 

“Chan, I’ve got to shower.” Minho laughed, panting through his breaths, eyes moving to the little mirror that rest on one of the shelves of Chan’s wooden desk. 

Shit, he looked so hot. His silver hair plastered to his face, lips swollen and plump. Neck all bruised. Fuck. Hyunjin might be a little upset but—he knew Minho. He knew there was no way Minho was going to see him without getting some action beforehand. 

“Can I join?” The elder whined, nuzzling his face into Minhos nape now, pressing tiny kisses against the abused flesh. 

Minho smirked, turning himself in Chan’s grasp to cup the man’s face, looking longingly into the blonde man’s tired eyes, “Sure. Let’s hurry. I’m running out of time.”

“You’re going dressed like that?” Chan snorted, pulling up his sweatpants and tying a knot into the waistband. Who tied knots? 

“Yeah. It’s what Hyunjin requested.” Minho snorted, admiring himself in the mirror as he applied some cheap gloss that he’d stolen from Chan ages ago.

“Did he also request those leather pants that are making your ass look like that? You’re doing a lot for this freshman.” Chan teased, hand sliding through his mass of bleached blonde curls, were they even curls? His hair was so damaged that Minho couldn’t tell anymore. 

“No, I figured I should look extra hot for him. It’s his special day.” Minho puckered his lips playfully, adjusting his shirt so that just enough of his chest was shown before adorning the open space with a black pendant necklace. 

“He’s not going to want to blow his candles out when he sees you.” Chan laughed, biting his own lip now as if he hadn’t just fucked Minho hours ago. 

“You jealous?” Minho rolled his eyes, sticking the chapstick into his pocket now, “he’s going to be blowing something for sure.”

“Ask nicely.”

“He’ll be begging for it.” Minho insisted, turning to fluff his own messy hair that he’d styled just for Hyunjin, “he’s totally going to beg.”

“He’s picking you up soon, right?” Chan pursed his lips, standing up to wrap his arms around Minhos waist, mouth back on Minhos neck like a leech. 

Minho tried to fight the giggles that were begging for release, slinking away from Chan easily, “he’s only gonna be here for just for a minute. And no touchy stuff! He knows I fuck around a lot but I don’t think he’d be happy to know we’re still messing around?”

“I’ll try.” Chan laughed, settling himself back on the bed, water droplets still at his pale stomach from earlier, “did you mention anything about us?”

He bit his lip, giving Chan a devilish smirk in reply, “I told him everything.”

A knock at the door stirred both men then, dragging them out of their lust for one another. 

“Hm, must be my freshie.” Minho chimed, leaning down to press a sloppy tongue filled kiss to Chan’s lips before hopping towards the door, hearing nothing but Chan’s jostled laughter behind. 

“Hyunjin!” 

Oh shit. Minho immediately felt intimidated. He didn’t expect the usual preppy Hyunjin to be looking like the full course meal he did right about now. Like holy shit. 

“Hey Minho.” Even his voice was low. Sultry. Fuck, Minho was about to invite Hyunjin in for a threesome. 

“What’s up.” Minho forced, eyes gazing along the younger males attire. 

Fuck. 

He was wearing tight black pants that had a precious silver chain strapped around the leg, a little cross adored to signify that Hyunjin was clearly religious. He was wearing platform boots with spiked trim that only made Minho feel smaller, and god. He had his own patterned buttoned shirt, chest more exposed than he could handle right now. And his hair? A tosseled mess of brown that exposed just the best parts of the man’s forehead. He was dripping. Minho was fucking dripping. 

Minho thought that he, himself, looked like sin? No way. Hwang Hyunjin was the definition of sin. The most delicious ass sin he’d ever encountered. 

“You look really good.” Hyunjin batted his eyes, the obvious line of black liner causing Minho to melt, “leather suits you.” 

He wanted to fuck Hyunjin right now. Right here. Goddammit he was going to enjoy tonight. 

“Is that how you church boys dress?” Chan laughed from behind Minho, causing Hyunjins lips to curl into a smile that Minho had never witnessed before. 

“Only at night.”

“We gotta hang out more often.” Minho hissed then, gaze lingering to the obvious bulge. God it didn’t help that Hyunjins shirt was tucked in like that. Jesus Christ.

“We’ll be late. We should go.” Hyunjin whispered then, peeking behind Minho into the room to offer Chan a cute finger wave. Minho didn’t even turn but he could hear Chan’s incessant giggling. 

“Chan looked hot.” Hyunjin spoke out, after miles of walking in silence. 

“He always does.” Minho purred, eyes struggling to stay at Hyunjins face. Damn, what the fuck happened to Hwang Hyunjin at night? He was a walking sex machine. Minho wanted to pop a quarter and have a go. 

Hyunjins eyes seemed to linger on Minho as well, “I’m so glad you decided to come. Everyone’s going to be so excited to meet you.”

Everyone. “How many people will be there?” Minho asked, eyes forcing to look into Hyunjins as they walked. 

“So many.” Hyunjin smirked, eyes seeming to dart down to where Minho wanted them. Good. They were on total fuck terms. Minho was so fucking excited. 

“Heads up, its really dark at first. But there are tons of candles. So watch your step, Hyung.” Hyunjins voice was so deep. So hot. So fucking hot. 

“Hmm, candles huh?” Minho laughed, letting his hands slip into the tight pockets of his pants. 

“Mostly candles. I’ll keep you from getting burned.” Hyunjin teased. 

Shit, he was like a whole new person at night. The whole dandy preppy freshman thing was so out. He was so hot. What the fuck? 

“We’re here.” Hyunjin whispered, starting up the steps to what looked like a normal old church. Old was probably an understatement. This place was ancient for sure. 

Minho glanced around, eyes squinting around at the lack of cars. Many, huh?

“Hyung?” Hyunjin had a hand held out, tongue rolling over his lips as if to tempt him. 

It was working. 

Minho took his hand quickly, following Hyunjin up the mass of stairs before the younger pushed the front door open, revealing a wide church interior filled with pews and red adornments. It looked normal enough. 

“Follow me.” Hyunjin smiled then, tugging Minho along in his direction, exchanging the warm church pews with a distant hallway. Hmm. 

“Where is everyone?”

Hyunjin paused a moment, spinning around to face Minho now. 

This was a tad off. As sexy as Hyunjin was, Minho was starting to get a little uncomfortable. Like something bad was brewing deep down. He couldn’t place it. 

“They’re coming in just a little bit...usually we.” He paused, hands at Minhos shoulders, fingertips sliding along Minhos bare arms, “just trust me.”

Minho didn’t want to fight it. So he did. He took Hyunjins hand again, following him down the hallway. Further and further from the church setting. Until they reached a small door close to the end of the hallway, Hyunjins fingers immediately pressing against the dark wood. 

“Hyung, watch your step, okay?” Hyunjin warmed, pushing the door opened to reveal a much brighter setting. 

The candles.

It was really bright compared to the rest of the space, candles illuminating beautifully. All over the ground and shelves. Minho had to squint to make out what this room was. 

Fuck. It was just a bed. A bed in the middle of the dimly lit room. 

“You really did want to fuck, huh?” Minho snorted before slapping his own mouth. Shit. He was in a church. “My bad I forget we—“

“Hush. This used to be the church heads room. I just use it now to...I promise the sheets are clean.” Hyunjin smirked, tugging Minho along. He wasn’t necessarily as protective as he’d said before. Minho had to dodge some candles with his feet before being tossed against the bed. Hyunjins strength really was no joke. 

“Did you lie about a party? Just to get me here to fuck?” Minho whispered then, Hyunjin climbing over him. This was so sudden. But he wouldn’t question that one bit. 

“I may have...exaggerated some details.” Hyunjin grabbed Minhos chin, oh so gently, tilting Minhos head to the side a moment before letting those soft pink lips graze amongst his own. 

Minho definitely didn’t expect this. It was...really sexy for one. And in an odd way romantic. Maybe this was Hyunjins way of getting to fuck Minho. In a church of all places. Maybe Hyunjins goal was to fuck him the entire time. 

“Ahhh~” Minho didn’t mean to let a moan slip to early, but Hyunjin had reached a hand back to grip into Minhos hair, pulling his head back to latch his lips against Minhos throat. It was so fucking sexy. He couldn’t contain the noise, not at all. 

“Hyung…” Hyunjin released a small laugh, adjusting so he was settled into Minhos lap, hand still holding his hair as his hips began to move teasingly slow, the feeling of Hyunjins hardened cock causing Minhos head to spin. 

“Hyunjin...if you wanted to fuck we could have done this months ago.”

“It wouldn’t have been as satisfying. It had to be here, in this church.” Hyunjin responded, mouth fully attached to Minhos throat now, slurping sounds from the younger causing Minho to grip onto Hyunjins shirt, his own hips bucking up into Hyunjins. He was so wet. Leaking precum against the uncomfortable confinement of leather. Maybe leather was a bad idea he was burning up. 

“Hyunjin, pull my pants off.” Minho gasped, rolling his hips against the younger as Hyunjin started to suck more feverishly, causing Minhos head to fall back, pleasing little moans leaving his throat. 

“Of course.” Hyunjin replied, lips slipping from Minhos neck. Wow, they were already swollen and plump just from that. Minho couldn’t wait to see what else that mouth could do. 

Minho adjusted himself as Hyunjin changed position, lifting Minhos legs to either side of his waist as he unbuckled the tight leather, “You went to so much trouble to look this nice, Hyung.”

He did. 

“For your special day.” Minho cooed, enjoying Hyunjins fingers tugging into his hair roughly before releasing the silver locks, both hands starting to pull the tight black garment down Minhos thighs. But he stopped. He stopped right at Minhos knee. 

“You good?” Minho teased, reaching a hand to pat through Hyunjins hair; which had gotten considerably drenched. 

“Perfect. You’re so perfect Hyung.”

Minho didn’t expect it but within seconds he was so ready to cum. 

“Can I suck you off?” Holy shit. 

“Yeah.” Minho sighed, nails digging into Hyunjins scalp as the younger leaned into him, wet lips pressing against his own. He really didn’t expect any of this. Not one bit. He was even starting to feel that high. He couldn’t keep his soft whines from making themselves known in his own throat. 

For some reason Hyunjin didn’t remove Minhos pants fully still, he just crouched down, fingertips raking along Minhos thighs as he licked a teasing stripe over Minhos underwear. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

“Hyunjin please—“ Minho felt so needy, even rocking his hips against the boys mouth. It felt so good. Too good. Minhos head was spinning. 

“Please what?” Hyunjin laughed, fingers pulling back the waistband, cock springing free. 

Minho let out a soft whine, head pressing back into the pillow that lay behind his head. He was so fucking turned on. He felt like he’d cum at any moment. 

“P-please do it. Hyunjin I’m gonna fucking cum.”

“Don’t curse in the church.” Hyunjin smirked, tugging the black garment down to a stop where Minhos pants had earlier by his knees. 

Minho mumbled an apology, leaning himself up some as Hyunjin let his tongue flick at Minhos reddened head. Fuck. He really didn’t think it would feel that good. Just a simple flick of the tongue and Minho was gripping the sheets. How the hell would he even last at this rate? 

“Hyunjin!” Minho wanted to curse but he opted for just biting his tongue, fists kneading the sheets as Hyunjins mouth finally wrapped around his overly sensitive head, tongue rolling along the slit with enough force for Minho to arch his back. He was losing his mind. 

“Feels good?” Hyunjin whispered, delving deeper. Minho didn’t quite hit the back of Hyunjins throat, but his length was nearly all the way inside Hyunjins warm mouth. It was driving him to his limit. So quickly. 

“Y-yes oh my g—“ he stopped as Hyunjins nails dig into his hip. Ahh, no cursing. “I’m sorry!” He gasped out, head rolling to the side as he pressed himself into the pillows, one hand diving to his mouth as the other tangled into Hyunjins hair. 

Hyunjin laughed softly, hand finally reaching underneath of Minhos very messy buttoned shirt, fingertips pressing against one of his little pink buds. Minho let out a soft whine, and he could hear Hyunjins subtle moans, only sending more vibrations throughout him, body shuddering at all the attention. He was totally going to cum. For sure. 

“Jinnie, I can’t.” He swallowed hard, another lengthy moan escaping his lips. He knew he was tugging Hyunjins hair a little too hard, but Hyunjin was so hot. He couldn’t help it. 

Hyunjin popped off quickly. Too quickly that the cold air caused Minho to rut himself up against Hyunjins pretty chin. He wanted more, but he knew it was for the best. He wanted Hyunjin to fill him. 

“You want more, Hmm?”

“Yes, please.”

Hyunjin smiled, way too cute for the situation they were in, before reaching down. Minho assumed there was a bag or something because suddenly he was writhing from a new wetness at his hole, the feeling of Hyunjins long fingers massaging him way too slowly. 

“H-have you ever done this?” Minho gasped out, forcing his head back up to look at what Hyunjin was doing, biting down at his own soaked fingers as his hips moved ever so slightly against those sinful fingers. 

“Of course…” Hyunjin whispered, shoving a digit into Minho. He wasn’t sure if he was just loose or what. But he barely felt it. Matter of fact, Minho barely felt anything. He was in a constant state of pleasure. He wasn’t sure why but he wasn’t going to complain. It felt too good. 

“Good, right?” Hyunjin asked after some time, moving himself over Minho, plump pretty pink lips causing Minho to shudder. Hyunjin was so hot. Fuck. 

“So good.” He whispered out before tugging Hyunjin by his hair down to his lips, tongue wrapping around the younger males for any sort of release. God, it felt so unreal. Hyunjin was unreal. So hot and unreal and his. He was his for now. 

Hyunjin must’ve added another digit. Minho could feel the younger males knuckle smacking into him. He must’ve been scissoring the fuck out of him. Good. He wasn’t sure how big Hyunjin was, but he acted like he was huge. God, he hoped he was huge. 

Minho lost track of time, sweat pounding down his face from not only the intensity of Hyunjins fingers and tongue, but the ridiculous heat of the room. Thankfully Hyunjin had rid Minho of his shirt, and finally he’d tugged his pants to the ground. And god, naked Hyunjin was a sight he’d never forget. He’d seen those skinny legs but seeing him without those baggy ass shorts...he looked so fucking good. So delicious. Hyunjin was a treat for sure. 

“You ready?” Hyunjin laughed, gasping out after sliding on the condom he’d pulled from wherever he’d gotten the lube from. 

Minho just nodded, eyes half lidded and battling to stay open. It was all just so overwhelming and good. 

“Are you sure, hyung?” Hyunjin asked, fingers carding through Minhos sweaty hair, nails scratching into his scalp calmly. It felt so good. 

“Yes, fuck—“ Hyunjin entered a little too quickly. So quickly that Minho totally felt it. But it was worth it. Minho liked it rough. The rougher the better. 

Minho cried out almost immediately as Hyunjin rolled his hips a moment before sliding out, only to slam back in and release a long moan of his own. Hyunjin had totally done this before. For fucking sure. 

“Don’t curse, Minho.” Hyunjin laughed again, steadying himself over Minho as one of his hands moved to wrap around Minhos swelling head. “You gotta watch that tongue.”

“Ah, Hyunjin...let me come, you asshole.” Minho laughed, letting his hand move to graze along Hyunjins sweaty chest, admiring the subtle definition of his stomach. He was way less muscular than Chan. That was fine with him. 

“Oh? Already?” Hyunjin moved his hand down to Minhos hip, massaging the soft skin with his thumb, “You sure, hyung?” 

“Y-yes. I won’t curse again. Please?” Minho whined softly, slight smirk slipping over his lips. He was so lightheaded. So dazed. He wasn’t sure if it was Hyunjin or the heat. But he was so fucking frazzled. 

“Just for you,” Hyunjin whispered, moving his hand down Minhos length, pumping him slowly as his hips increased their rhythm, droplets of sweat dripping from the younger man’s hair into Minhos stomach. It was so fucking hot. 

And within seconds Minho was coming, head back against the pillow, legs wrapping around Hyunjins waist as hair covered his eyes, mouth gaping in a silent scream. 

He was in a state of bliss he’d never felt before. And he had no clue why. 

Minho must’ve been babbling out random words because Hyunjin was leaned over, cock settled against his stomach now instead of pounding into him. He didn’t cum yet, however. He just leaned in, pressing gentle kisses to Minhos cheeks as he breathed heavily, enjoying the sensation of Hyunjins hand raking hair from his face. 

“Hyung, you’re so hot. You’re burning up.”

“It’s so hot, Jinnie…” Minho managed, wrapping his arms briefly around the younger man’s neck before feeling Hyunjin pull away, leaning down again to pick something else up from whatever stash was there. 

“It’ll only get hotter, hyung. Do you trust me?”

Minhos head was spinning too fast. He did trust him, he guessed. He simply nodded, grabbing at Hyunjins free hand and licking at his fingers hungrily. 

Hyunjin laughed, slipping his fingers against Minhos tongue with a soft sigh, his own matter hair sticking to his face, “promise you won’t be mad?”

Minho just nodded again, grinding his hips up against the other man who was resting against him, Hyunjins hard member massaging against his own soft one. 

It hurt. Slightly. Minho just writhed in place a moment, biting down gently against Hyunjins fingers. 

“Its okay, hyung. I got you.” Hyunjin whistled. 

It took Minho a moment but after a mere three minutes he couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled himself up slightly, tilting his head and popping Hyunjins fingers from his mouth. 

What the fuck?

“Hyunjin what are you?” 

“It’s just a mark.”

“A what?” Even in his dazed state he could tell this was fucked. 

Hyunjin was burning his leg. There were little wax droplets but...he was literally holding a flame to Minhos thigh. And it was reddening considerably. 

“A mark.” Hyunjin whispered, grabbing Minhos chin to press a chaste kiss, “nothing big. It’s just a pretty mark to remember this night.”

“Hyunjin…” Minho was too dazed to pull away. And with Hyunjins distraction he was able to lose focus, tongue tangling again into the other boys pretty mouth. 

And it worked. And Hyunjin continued whatever nasty artwork he was creating on Minhos thigh. 

And he let him. 

“Morning sunshine.” 

Minho felt so exhausted. And sore. And he was still battling the semi-daze from last night. He was mostly just tired, though. 

“Morning.” He whined, wrapping his arms around his pillow. 

“Hyunjin dropped you off last night. You were so out of it. Did you guys drink anything?” Chan asked, settling himself on Minhos bed, patting through his hair that...wasn’t sweaty or matted anymore. Did he shower? 

“Oh?” Minho whispered, turning into his side. His blankets were so warm. And the fan was on high. It was too comfortable. “Did he say anything?”

“Not really. Just sorry for keeping you out. He seemed confused that you were so dazed. Did you guys go to a bar or...were you drugged, Min?” Chan moved so he was laying beside Minho now, hand rest against his cheek. It was so comfortable. 

“Hnn, no. I don’t remember. But...that was nice of him. To bring me home. And I’m okay no drugs. Promise.” He whispered back, wrapping a pinky around Chan’s with a weak grin. 

“So how good was he?” Chan asked suddenly, patting at Minhos cheek instead. 

Minho whined again, swatting the elders hand from his face before tugging Chan by the waist towards him, nuzzling his face into his shoulder. Warm. So nice and warm. “He was good. But he wasn’t you, of course.”

Chan laughed, giving Minho a tiny squeeze before sliding himself under the covers, covering Minhos head with pecks. 

“Why did we break up?”

“Cause I wanna fuck everyone.” Minho pouted, nuzzling more into Chan’s soft embrace.

Minho just...he didn’t want a relationship. With anyone. But if he ever had to get into any...he’d pick Chan. Chan for sure. 

“We should go get breakfast. Chan’s hungry.” Chan laughed, sliding out of the bed, hand massaging Minhos back that was covered with a gray sweatshirt rather than his blouse from the night before. 

“Okay...fine. I don’t want you to end up eating me, you stupid vampire.” Minho teased, forcing himself upright, swinging his legs over the side of his bed. He must’ve taken his pants off in the night. He could see the leather bunched up under his sheets. 

“I’m not /that/ pale.” Chan laughed, eyes bright—but just for a moment. Because within seconds they darkened. Much like the rest of his face. And his brows knit. And he didn’t look okay. Or happy. Or fine. He looked so...distraught?

“Hyung, are you okay?” Minho asked, pulling the covers back to stand, immediately regretting his decision and settling back down, grabbing at his thigh for some reason. Oh shit. Not some reason. 

His thigh. No, both thighs. They were both bandaged. But why? 

“Minho…” Chan sounded so sad...so. He sounded weird. The elder dropped down, fingertips grazing along the white bandage wrapped around both legs. They were bloody, too. What the fuck? 

“I have no clue what the fuck happened to me.” Minho gasped, immediately tearing at the clasp of the meticulously tied bandage. 

Fuck. 

He was burned. Like...his leg was really red in certain areas. But in a particular spot there was a fucking circle. Like...a mark. 

“What the fuck?!” Minho cried, fingers feeling around the tender area, wincing with each prod. “When did this happen what the—“ 

What the fuck happened?

“Hyunjin.” Minho grit his teeth then, eyes watering from him constantly poking at his wound. “He burned me. Why the hell did I let him do that!?”

“He did what?” Chan growled then, gripping Minhos chin in his hands, “what do you mean he burned you? This was on purpose!?”

“I guess I...I can’t really remember but shit...he asked me if he could and I said yes. What the fuck I didn’t know it was this bad!?”

“Why would you tell him it was okay!?” Chan was holding his chin tight, forcing their eyes to lock, “Minho, why?”

“I don’t know. It was hot at the time?” He just shrugged before shaking his head from Chan’s grasp, noticing the hurt in the elders eyes. “Look, I won’t see him again, okay? Like fuck this is going to scar. What is wrong with that kid?”

“Please don’t. See him again, I mean. Don’t.” Chan sounded so winded. More shocked than Minho was. “I’m sorry I grabbed you like that...oh my god can I clean it at least? It doesn’t look that good.”

“How do you clean burns?” Minho wasn’t sure. 

“I don’t know but let’s please get you in the shower...get that dried blood off of you.” 

He had bled. Somehow he had bled that night, too. Maybe he hadn’t showered. Maybe he just dried through the night. Ew. He needed a shower. 

Chan was very meticulous and sweet. Though the water stung to the point Minho was sobbing in the shower, Chan did his best to take care of him. He made sure there were no definite cuts, though the bruising was inevitable. Chan was such a good guy. Why did Minho even fuck Hyunjin when he could have just had chan? 

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” Minho frowned as Chan ran the towel through his hair, fingertips pressing into his scalp as he massages the towel over Minhos wet hair. 

“It’s okay. Just...don’t go hang out with him again. It’s obviously…kids fucked. And you said he took you to his church and did this? And there was a room with a bed and candles...what the fuck was that about?” 

“I don’t know, Channie.” Minho sighed, scooting himself back against Chan’s bare chest, the elder stopping the movements in Minhos hair to wrap his arms around his chest, “man, we work so well together. I’m sorry for—“

“Don’t. Seriously, it was for the best. With school and work we weren’t spending much time together. All we got to do was fuck and...I’m content with that.” Minho knew Chan was lying. In another world they were already married. They were perfect together. But yeah...Minho just. He didn’t want to focus on a relationship. He didn’t want to stay hooked up with one guy. He was...god he was kind of a slut, huh? 

“Well, I love you a lot. And even if we’re not together you’re still my favorite boy.” Minho sighed out, resting back against Chan completely now, eyes fluttering shut from the incredible warmth. 

“I love you too, stupid.” Chan snorted, leaving a little kiss to Minhos hair before pulling them back against the bed, the covers pulled over their tangled bodies. 

“Hey fucker.” Minho probably should have talked to Hyunjin a little nicer. With less obvious resentment. Though the doe eyed boy turned quickly, pouting at Minhos tone, “the fuck did you do to me last night?”

Hyunjin gripped his backpack tightly, looking down innocently as if they hadn’t had the most sinful sex of Minhos life last night, “Seriously Hyunjin, What the hell did you do to my legs? They’re all burnt up and there are two circles. What the fuck?”

“It’s…” hyunjin sigh, grabbing Minhos wrist and tugging him along. Man, whatever. 

Once they were away from the onlookers, Hyunjin finally let out a breath, “I’m so sorry. I did ask if it was okay…”

“I was—“ Minho stopped himself. He wasn’t on drugs or high, right? “I don’t know what happened. But I wasn’t thinking clearly at all. I like...I didn’t want you to fucking scar me…”

“I’m sorry. It’s...I can’t help it now. You’re marked.”

Minho pauses, squinting his eyes, “what do you mean? Like you own my ass? Sorry but I don’t do the whole settle thing.”

“No, you’re branded to me now. I do, in fact, own your ass. And now so does the church.”

Minho stifled a laugh, a look of complete bewilderment across his features, “is this a joke?”

“No…” hyunjin pouted cutely, bangs hitting his nose as if he was ashamed, “you’re apart of it now. I can’t change that. If you don’t accept...I may have to ask Chan to help convince you.”

“You’re delulu. Stay away from Chan you fucking freak.” Minho spat, shaking his head before shoving passed Hyunjins shoulder. “Fucking weirdo.”

“You can’t escape, Minho. You’re apart of this now.” Hyunjin laughed proudly, Minho glancing back a second to see him waving like a fucking child. What the fuck. 

He couldn’t even register the shit Hyunjin spat at him. He was that into his satanic religion that he branded Minho? What the hell. 

“You’re joking…” Chan rolled his eyes, adjusting the headband that was placed way too messily at his hair, blonde curls sticking everywhere. “He said that you?”

“Yeah. Fucking freak. Religious asshat ass bitch. Who does he think I am?” Minho growled, plopping himself into Chan’s lap, “like, he said I belonged to his church. Like what?”

“Sounds like a fucking cult.” Chan winced, grabbing both of Minhos cheeks, “it’s okay I’ll protect you, Minnie.”

“Oh sure you will. You’ll just suck his blood and make him a creature of the night so he backs the fuck off of me.” Minho teased, grabbing Chan’s face in his own hands, “maybe I’ll stake him or something.”

“I’m not a vampire, Minho.” Chan laughed, giggles chasing Minhos smile to stretch wide on his own face. 

“Well, good. I like spending time with you in the daytime.” Minho giggled, leaning in to slide his lips along Chan’s plump pink ones, happily sighing against them. 

“Minho, I love y—spending time with you, too. Like a lot.”

Minho had to ignore what he knew Chan wanted to say. This context...this wasn’t a friendly I love you. This was THAT I love you. He had to ignore. Otherwise they’d have to distance themselves. And Minho didn’t want that. He genuinely really loved Chan. A lot. 

“Chan, you’re so hot.” Minho laughed, rolling his hips expertly as he dove back into Chan’s mouth, the elders arms wrapped tightly around his back. 

“You’re hot, too. I love when you ride me, Min.” Chan gasped, plump sore lips so wet against Minhos own. 

“I love riding you.” He laughed, slipping his hands up to Chan’s cheeks, lips melting against the elder boy’s in pure adoration. 

Chan Chan Chan. He loved Chan. Fuck Hyunjin and his magical dick. He didn’t need that. He had the perfect boy right here. 

“Minho.”

Chan felt so good. So deep. Minho even threw his head back, mouth gaping as electric shocks of fucking bliss ran through his spine. Shit. He loved Chan. He loved Chan. 

“Minho. Yoo hoo.”

“Oh my god…fuck Chan you’re so deep. This is so good. Fuck fuck fuck!” Minho kept his pace, bouncing himself roughly against Chan’s cock, moans of absolute pleasure draining him considerably. 

“He’s really out of it, huh?” 

Wait. 

Minho stopped, pulling himself off suddenly. Did he hear that voice right? What the fuck? 

“Hey Minho!” 

No fucking way. 

“What the hell are you doing. Get out of my room!” Minho gasped, pulling the blanket over to cover himself before his eyes went to Chan. 

He didn’t look upset. Or startled nor confused. And that hurt. It hurt so much. 

“Chan…?”

The elder sat himself up, rubbing his temples. 

“Hyunjin wanted to come by because...it's a special night.” He wasn’t looking at Minho. At all. He caressed Minhos thighs, eyes settled elsewhere. 

“Is this a joke? Are you guys in on some weird prank against me?” Minho forced a laugh, inching further from Chan until he was on the bed completely, “it’s not funny.”

“It’s not a joke. You’ve been marked. You can’t leave.” Hyunjin whispered, raking a hand through his parted hair, “Minho, you gave me permission the other night to be apart of it.”

“Fuck off. This isn’t funny. Chan, it’s not funny. My thighs really hurt from that shit. This isn’t a joke.” Minho didn’t realize his voice had gotten so shaky. The joke wasn't funny. Hyunjins behavior and personality switch was scaring him. And now, So was Chan. 

“It’s not a joke, Minnie…” Chan sat himself up more, caressing Minhos cheek so lovingly that he wanted to cry. 

What was this? 

“This religious shit...I’m sorry I made fun of it, Hyunjin...but I seriously...this isn’t funny, Chan.” Minho didn’t want to sound so pathetic but he was shaking. And he wasn’t sure what to do with himself right now. He felt overall embarrassed and pissed off. Had Chan really allowed Hyunjin to physically harm him? He knew?

“I’m so sorry Minho...I wanted to be the one to do it but...Hyunjin beat me to it. He won.”

Won what? 

“I’m not an object…” Minho whimpered before pulling himself off of the bed, shimmying his pants quickly before backing himself up into his desk chair, “if this is a joke. Stop. I’m tired of this shit.”

“You curse too much.” Hyunjin spoke up, eyes dark. No. He didn’t like that look at all. 

This was a nightmare, right?

“Chan I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have slept with him. I love you, okay. I don’t want to be with anyone else. Especially not him. This isn’t funny anymore. It’s not funny.” Minho did love Chan. But right now he felt so panicked and uncomfortable. Just the sigh of Hyunjin made his stomach knot. He didn’t want to feel this way. 

Chan tossed Hyunjin an oddly sympathetic look as he pulled himself up from the bed, tugging up the sweats Minho had pulled off of him earlier, “I’m sorry, Min. I don’t want this anymore than you do but...it’s been done.”

Minho shot Chan a disgusted look of his own, eyes darting between the two yet finding more focus and rage on Chan, “what’s been done?”

He didn’t expect this at all. Nor did he have any time to react as Hyunjin shoved him down into the desk, hands tight around his neck and pressing down on his throat. 

No what the fuck!?

Minho couldn’t even cry out, he was just thrashing his legs, the uncomfortable tightness fogging his vision. Why were they doing this? This was too far. This situation wasn't funny. Why was Hyunjin doing this? Was it a nightmare? What the hell had he signed up for? 

He struggled against the younger, nails digging into Hyunjins hands that only seemed to exert even more pressure onto him. He wanted to wake up. This wasn’t fun. This wasn’t okay. 

And Chan. Chan just watched. His eyes seemed so weary, yet he just watched. He didn’t even try to help. This had to be a dream. A fucked up nightmare.

Minho wanted to wake up. 

Never mind. 

Suddenly sleep would have been the most amazing thing. Go back to sleep. Dream instead. Don’t wake up. 

Minho wasn’t sure he’d ever felt more pain in his entire life. Not when he fell off his bike as a child. Not when he twisted his ankle during a dance class and had to be on crutches for a week. Not even when he’d gotten his wisdom teeth out. Nothing could compare. 

The feeling of pins and needles. Nails. Nails was more fitting. 

His eyes felt so heavy as he finally forced them open, the stinging of tears he must’ve produced in his too-shirt slumber causing him to wince. This place. In a way it was familiar. But barely. 

Minho focused forwards, eyes settling on the high roof above. Rundown and dusty, but standing tall. This was a joke. This was a joke. 

He tried to move his hand, mistake. 

“He’s awake?” Hyunjins voice. Though it sounded pained, it wasn’t satisfying. It wasn’t fun. 

Minhos jaw clenched as he tried to keep calm, relaxing his hands now that he knew moving was only going to harm him further. 

Nails. There were nails in his hands. And they didn’t look clean. They looked so rusted. So old. He’d get tetanus. He needed a hospital. This wasn’t...it wasn’t funny. 

Both of his hands lay outstretched, against thick wood. Wood. Was he? No fucking way. Minho lifted his head slightly, trying to get a glimpse of his lower half. But it was no use. Maybe he should move—

He screamed. This time with enough volume that Chan was kneeling beside him now, chains smacking against Minhos hair as he bent himself down, black hood draped over his beautiful, yet dry, blonde hair. 

“Hey Minnie,” there was no comfort. Chan looked like...something out of a horror film. He had a thick black line of paint running down the top of his nose, and a couple of red spots of...paint? Paint on his cheeks. No blood. It was blood. 

Minho shut his eyes tight, turning his head away from the elder, wanting nothing more than to run away. But he knew that wasn’t possible. Not with thick nails puncturing his ankles together at the base of...this cross he lay on. 

“I’m so sorry,” Chan spoke again, the feeling of warm fingers running through Minhos hair. This was supposed to be a nice feeling, but he just ended up sobbing instead. Coughing through tears. It must’ve been the pressure that Hyunjin had put on his throat earlier. That, and the various ropes that had him tied up. At least he was clothed. And he didn’t feel like they’d...violated him or anything. Well, not anymore than they already had. By destroying not only his privacy, but his trust. 

“How is he?” Hyunjin didn’t sound good at all, “how’s the bucket?”

Bucket. What? 

“It’s filling.” Chan whispered, carding his fingers through Minhos silver hair, nails digging too comfortably into his scalp. 

“What?” Minho managed, biting down at his lip. He wanted to hide his face. But he couldn’t move. He couldn’t do anything. 

“The bucket...you hear the dripping? You’re not far off the ground but...it’s dripping. Into the buckets.” Chan sounded way too calm. Way too...just way too. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Minho sputtered, getting a harsh slap to the face that caused his eyes to blow open, turning his head to face Chan properly now. 

“Don’t curse in this church.” He sounded pained, eyebrows knit as he pulled himself up, slipping something away from Minhos hand. He could feel his fingertips smack the rim of it. 

The bucket. Which was small and more like a cup. He held it to his mouth momentarily before stepping away. 

Minhos head couldn’t lift that high. He lay himself back, gasping for air through his sobs and discomfort. He felt like he was going to explode. Whatever this was, was too much. It was too much. He didn’t understand. This wasn’t funny. 

Chan arrived back to him quickly, kneeling beside him with the ‘bucket’ in hand, “Hey…”

Minho stared at him for a moment, shaking his head softly. He wished he could see better but his contacts were starting to irritate him. And his tears were clouding everything. “Chan...what is this?”

The blonde frowned, moving his hand to slip underneath of Minhos head, thumb caressing his neck. It felt so nice but...what was this?

“Drink up.” Chan winced before forcing the small bucket to Minhos lips, hand tight at the back of his head as he forced liquid down Minhos throat. 

With all the gasping he was doing it took him a moment to realize. He panicked, mouth shutting and eyes doing the same, trying to block everything out. No way. 

Chan gripped harder, nails digging into his skull too harshly. So harshly that Minho cried out, more of the thick liquid splashing against his lips. The inside of his mouth. He was moving his hands subconsciously now, the feeling of the nails rust digging against his skin. It hurt. So bad. 

Minho coughed, the liquid filling his mouth too quickly now. And clogging his throat. And splashing against his lips. He hated this. He hated whatever this was. This wasn’t funny, it wasn’t. 

“You’re doing so well.” Chan whispered, eyebrows still knit as if he really were in pain. 

After too long chan pulled the cup away, Minho coughing and gagging against the liquid that was making its way down his throat. It was awful. This coppery taste. He knew what it was. There was no doubt in his mind. 

Blood. 

“I have to help Hyunjin now. Stay here…” there was the slightest grin at the end of Chan’s words. This was funny to him. Chan thought it was funny. 

Minho swallowed harshly before throwing his head back into the wood behind him, tears and snot dripping down his face. 

He was in hell. If there was a god and a devil, he was in hell. 

Suddenly he felt like maybe he shouldn’t have teased Hyunjin. Or had religious talks at night with Chan about how much bullshit came from religion. He was a fool. 

He had no idea. 

Minho wiggled his fingers, feeling multiple nails poking out. They were so nasty. So rusty. So gross that Minho just wanted to puke and die. They felt rough. And they were peeling. Even if he tried to yank a hand free...it was so useless. He was hopelessly stuck. Even if he removed his hands he still had his ankles wrecked with nails. And he was tied. He didn’t have time. 

“Minnie,” Minho didn’t want to be called that anymore. It stung. “I’m going to put this on you, okay?” Minho couldn’t see the object. He just knew he didn’t want it. There was so much sympathy laced into Chan’s voice. It hurt so much. 

“Chan don’t.” Minho whispered, eyes so glossy. He just wanted to go home. He didn’t even know what Chan was going to do. He just knew he wanted it all to stop. “Why are you doing this? You can stop. I won’t tease you about religion. I won’t. I’ll even join if you want. Just…” Chan gave him such a soft look. Filled with pain. Remorse, maybe? Chan...what the fuck was he doing. He could stop, right? 

“You’re not mad?” Chan choked out, settling himself down on Minhos stomach, sitting upright with his hood pulled down a little more. Maybe it was to hide his expression. His face. 

He was furious. But more so, scared. 

“Chan I just want to go home. Let’s go…this isn’t funny. It’s not. We can leave, right?” Minho tugged his hand some, throwing his head back as pain shot down his wrist and up through his arm. Bad idea. 

“Don’t move.” Chan stammered, pressing his palm to Minhos cheek. He could feel so much warmth. Too much. His face was already so flushed and he’d cried so much already. Now it was just worse. He was burning up so badly. 

“Chan please stop…” Minho whispered, shaking his head away. He wanted this to end. He didn’t even know what THIS was. 

Chan let out a shaky sigh before his hand wrapped around Minhos head some, his own nails scratching through his hair once more before pulling his fingers off. 

Minho felt so peaceful in that moment. Because what came next was awful. And terrible. And it was so excruciating that he couldn’t contain himself. 

Suddenly, pain was shooting through his temple, and he could feel blood start to trickle down his face. No no no. 

He was screaming, shaking his head. He refused to open his eyes but he was suddenly terrified of whatever Chan was doing. Was Chan drilling into his head? What the fuck was he doing. Minho felt his fingertips wrapping around the nails of his right hand, struggling to pull against them despite the awful rust piercing into his skin. 

This was the worst pain he’d ever felt. Worse than the nails. Worse than anything else. This. 

Minho knew he was choking on his tears, he knew he was making whatever was happening worse by thrashing himself around like this. And he could hear Chan’s struggling breaths. He sounded like he’d burst into tears himself. But nobody was with them. Nobody was there. Nobody was forcing Chan to do this. Chan was doing this. All on his own. 

He lost count of the times he screamed for Chan to stop. He could feel his hand tearing at the nail, begging for release. And his body felt so tense underneath of Chan’s weight, which seemed to grow either time. Like an anvil was placed directly into him. He was winded. He was losing air. He was losing focus. This hurt. It hurt. 

Minho whimpered as hands caressed his cheeks, wiping away the tears that ran down them and sleeve pressing against his nose. It was so caring. But it wasn’t. It hurt. It all hurt. 

He struggled to open his eyes, Chan biting down too hard on his bottom lip, his own eyes glossier than Minho had ever seen. 

He didn’t notice Hyunjin had been screaming too. He hadn’t noticed Hyunjin whining about it hurting. About how he didn’t think it’d hurt so much. 

They planned this. It was planned. 

“H-how long?” Minho winced, Chan lifting his head up again. Probably to keep him from choking on the blood that had formed in his own mouth. He must’ve bit his tongue or something while he was screaming and thrashing wildly. There was a lot of blood though. Maybe it was just regurgitated from Hyunjin. Minho wasn’t sure anymore. Nothing was real. 

“How long for what?” Chan whispered back, staring at Minhos head rather than his face. 

Minho nuzzled his face into Chan’s hand. He didn’t want to. But he needed comfort. Why Chan was the only source was baffling. He should have spat in his face. Yelled at him. But he couldn’t. He was so traumatized. So terrified. He just wanted to go home. He wanted to leave so badly. 

“How long have you planned to do this? Hyunjin…” Minho knew his voice was impossibly shaky. And he was still crying. Still choking on tears and coughing, “to me?”

Chan let out a small sob, thumb settling against Minhos cheek. He was sad. He didn’t want to do this. 

“It wasn’t supposed to be you and him. It wasn’t.” Chan stammered, holding Minhos face in his hands so fondly. “It wasn’t supposed to be you but...I can’t change that.” Chan spoke in whispers. So quiet. Like he had to be quiet about it. “You have to. It has to be you, now. I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t buy that. This was stupid. He just wanted to go home and cuddle in his bed with Chan while watching shitty Netflix films and gossiping about the boys on campus. He just wanted to lay in Chan’s lap, bitching about class. He wanted to tangle his fingers in Chan’s dry ass hair. He wanted to go home. Just leave. Wake up. He wanted to wake up. 

“Please...we can go home. Please stop?” Minho was shuddering. Whatever was...whatever was on his head. It hurt so badly. “Chan take it off? We can leave.”

“Taking it off will hurt too much.” Chan peered up, as if maybe...perhaps some one was watching. “I can’t. You just have to accept it.” Suddenly Chan was up again, clearing his throat and staring out...out to what? 

Chan walked away, out of view. Minho couldn’t follow. It hurt too much. As he lay his head back he could feel that whatever was on his head, was metallic. And sharp for sure. And heavy. It was so heavy. So heavy that Minho couldn’t rise his head once it fell. Too heavy for him. It hurt so much. Everything was stinging. How was he even awake? 

There was a weird rustling sound. And then a click. And a...It was like a pulley or something. Like someone was opening heavy blinds or pulling a rope. A rope for what? 

Minho tilted his head, no. 

His fear was reality. He could see off to the side that Hyunjin was nearly in the same position. He looked just as awful though he was fucking chanting something under his breath as his face came into view.

A crown? 

A fucking crown. That’s what was on Minhos head. A crown...a very sharp and very meticulously designed crown. 

Minho couldn’t look away. As Hyunjin rose up into the air, tied just as tightly and nails just as thick and rusty. He was so calm. How was he calm? He’d heard Hyunjin screaming as Minho was but...wait. He could see someone else. Someone walking by. What the hell. That wasn’t Chan. It wasn’t just Chan?

Minho felt a slight pull. No no no. His chest was rising and falling way too quickly, and he was suddenly very scared. So scared and so overwhelmed that he just wanted to pass out. But he just couldn’t. He couldn’t pass out. What if he never woke up? He wanted to live. He didn’t want to die. 

He was being dragged. No no. He could see his ankles clearly now. Being hoisted up. No. They were so fucked. So bruised and red with blood. God, they really hammered him good. He couldn’t run. He couldn’t escape. He was going to die. 

Minho felt panic rise as he was pulled up, eyes shutting tightly from fear and panic. Why were they lifting him? Why was everything suddenly so much heavier. Why was he screaming again? Oh. His head. The crown at his head. It was heavy. It was ripping his skin. Ripping him apart. He could feel it. Digging against his fucking skull. He was going to die. 

Chan was saying something. No—announcing something. Minho couldn’t even make it out through his own sobbing and whispering. He was whispering to himself. What? He wasn’t sure. He was so panicked. The pain was so much and he was just overwhelmed and crying. He couldn’t focus. 

“Minnie.” Chan. Shut up please. Minho didn’t want to feel bad for the way Chan’s voice cracked. But he did. He let his eyes flutter open, blinking through his tears. “Let me take those out…” Chan whispered then, reaching his hand too close to Minhos eye. But he got the picture. His contacts. Chan was taking them out. For what? Did he want Minho to not see what would happen? Or did he just know they were irritating him? Whatever the reason...he didn’t care. Honestly, he was glad they were being taken out of his eyes. 

Though it made everything blurrier, he felt a little better. He could blink normally. And with squinting, he could see ahead of him. And maybe it was good he couldn’t see well. Because there were people. Dozens—no, maybe right under a hundred. So many. Just staring with black hoods. Oh fuck, were there children? This was...Minho whimpered out at the sight, trying to inch himself away from it all only to find he was fucking suspended in the air, tied to a goddamn cross. 

“Chan...what is this?” Minho tried to sound calm. He tried not to sob, tried to be less terrified. But he knew that was impossible now. 

The blonde yanked his hood back, silver hanging from his ears catching Minhos attention. Chan never wore dangly earrings. Come to think of it, Chan didn’t accessorize ever. This was special. Whatever this was. 

Chan let out a sigh, gripping Minhos face in his hands again. It felt so nice. So calming. But only for seconds. Chan leaned in. Why did he do that? Why did he do this? Why was he doing this? 

Chan’s lips were so soft. So nice. Everything was spinning. He just wanted Chan to stay against his lips forever. To never part. Fuck Hyunjin. Fuck this. Fuck this religious cult that he was in. Fuck everything. He wanted to go home. He didn’t want this anymore. 

“Chan, Seriously? I marked him. Not you.” Hyunjin was trying to sound confident. But he was obviously suffering just as Minho was. Though he seemed to be apart of this, he was in obvious pain. 

Chan’s lips parted. And suddenly Minho felt himself press forwards, begging for the man to stay. To not leave him and bring him back to reality. He needed to stay in dreamland. Please. 

He pulled away again. No. Please don’t. Minho jerked himself forwards despite the obvious pain, “Don’t…” 

Chan seemed confused. And sad. And in so much pain. Minho didn’t like that. He didn’t want Chan to be upset. He loved Chan. He loved him. 

“Stay please…”

Chan let out a soft croak, as if his heart was breaking. 

Minho felt broken for sure. His heart was in shambles. 

“Don’t.” He repeated, Chan stepping away and shaking his head. Don’t don’t don’t. 

Minho didn’t realize he was thrashing so much. Struggling so hard. He didn’t realize he was about to tear his hand from the nails. 

When he did get his hand free, his screams must have filled the entire street. There was no way nobody heard that. He was so loud. So precise. 

“Minho Stop…” Chan sounded wounded, shaking his head more until disappearing from Minhos view. 

This wasn’t real. 

Chan was gone too long. And Minhos hand hurt so badly. He could now hear the crowd. Yes, crowd. They were whispering. Minho wasn’t supposed to free his hand. He wasn’t supposed to be moving around like this. 

His next thoughts went to his head. The crown. Pull it off. 

He tried to few around it, looking for any way to pull it off. It wasn’t going to happen. It was latched. Like maybe Chan had put it on and then dug sharp ends into his fucking skull. Like Minho was a wall, and this was just a mounted television. He was trapped. 

“Chan…” Minho sniffled, eyes darting around. Searching. He needed to find him. He needed him to pull him down. His head was starting to hurt. His hand was sore. His chest tight from the pressure of the ropes. It was too much. 

“Shut up and wait your turn, Minho!” Hyunjins voice was so annoying. Hyunjin was annoying. 

But maybe this wasn’t bad. If Hyunjin was excited...maybe it would end soon. Maybe they could go home. 

Nope. No one was going home. 

Minhos breaths got jagged as he managed to move his head, watching as Hyunjin visibly inched himself against his own cross, eyes widening. No. He was scared. He was terrified. This was real. 

Minho panicked, trying to thrash around again. He didn’t even care that his hand was a bloody mess. Or that his ankles were so destroyed that he couldn’t run. He had to do something. Anything. 

“You’re going to tire yourself out. Just accept it. Accept this. Minho, we are going to be so beautiful.” Hyunjin was shaking through his words. 

Suddenly Minho wanted to die. Right there because the sight of Chan climbing up a rickety ladder with a red can...It was too much. No he wasn’t. He wasn’t seriously about to — he was. 

Gasoline. A whole fucking red tin of gasoline. It was poured over Hyunjins body, wrapping around his legs and face. No no no. 

Gasoline was supposed to be a good smell for Minho. Comforting. 

Not this. Gasoline was the worst smell he could ever take on right now. No no no. 

Hyunjin shut his eyes, his own breaths escalating. He seemed to calm yet so terrified. Like he knew he was about to...He was about to burn, right? Why else would they use gasoline...why else!?

“Chan stop…” Minho whimpered, ceasing his movements, face stuck at Hyunjins that was shaking from fear. 

Chan wasn’t listening. The blonde emptied the can, tossing it down passed Minhos own suspended cross before descending the ladder, pulling up a sole candle. A candle. He was going to do it with a fucking candle. 

Minho didn’t want to watch, but he couldn’t look away. As fuzzy as it all was, he couldn’t leave. He couldn’t peel his eyes away once Chan climbed the ladder again, holding the flame against the gas covered wood. 

Suddenly Minho was screaming again. Not for himself, but for the boy he went to school with. The stupid freshman. The stupid naive freshman who was now panicking and freaking out on his own. 

Minhos eyes widened, watching the younger lean his head up and scream, starting to thrash himself. Is this how Minho had looked? Hyunjin was crying. Begging for Chan to stop. 

“Hyung! It’s so hot please put it out!”

Minho winced. This was too much. Too much. 

Minho let his cheek rest against the cross as he watched the flames wrap around Hyunjins scrawny legs, the youngers screams filling the room. What kind of fucked up religion...this was too much. This wasn’t even a nightmare. Minho couldn’t wake up. Because this was real. It was so real. 

Chan had his head down. He wasn’t watching. He was just chanting something, eyes closed tight. He looked like he’d crack but...Minho knew better. Suddenly he knew better. 

Chan was evil. Chan wasn’t good. He wasn’t good. 

Minho directed his eyes back to Hyunjin, flames starting to slowly consume his waist. It was...horrifying. The way the younger boy just screamed. His screams were bloodcurdling. Horrifyingly twisted. He was struggling so badly. And his head was just smashing back into the cross every time he’d lean up and try to blow himself off. This was...Minho couldn’t do this anymore. He wanted to leave. 

He was shaking, everywhere was shaking. Hyunjin was just roasting alive besides him. Dosed in gasoline. But the smell. The smell of human flesh burning. It was disgruntling. Minho felt so sick. He wanted to vomit. But vomit wouldn’t help him. Nothing would. He was going to die. He was slowly...slowly starting to accept that he was about to burn too. For sure. 

“Hyung please!” Hyunjin didn’t sound like himself anymore. His voice was cracked. He was hoarse and he was slowly losing consciousness. His eyes were constantly rolling back and his head was dripping way too much blood. That crown had punctured a lot more than his temples. He’d slammed it around the cross too much. Maybe he’d die before the flames got to his face. They were now at his chest. And slowly Minho could see the flames burning his legs black. And his skin was melting away. His face was covered in blisters and the flames hadn’t even touched there yet. That pretty face was…

Minho looked away, eyes shut tight as he took in the Hyunjins endless hoarse screams. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t real. 

Hyunjin was gasping now, breathing so disturbing. But Minho refused to open his eyes. He could feel the warmth from the flames hitting his own face. It wasn’t close enough to get him but...it was terrifying. Everything was so terrifying. And now Hyunjin wasn’t making noise. Briefly, Minho opened his eyes. And he screamed. The flames. They were in Hyunjins face. And he was still shaking. But it was more like a jerking movement. Every couple seconds his body writhed, hands bucking against the wood. 

Minho was in the most terrifying movie. This was horrific. This was fucking vile. 

Minho brought his dangling arm over to his other hand, starting to tug at the nails. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want that. Hyunjin was dead. He was dead 

He felt hands grip his face again. He was crying again. The hands were wiping his tears. He was so exhausted. So tired. 

“Channie...don’t.” Minho managed, eyes struggling to open. 

Chan was just there, eyes foggy. Did he have a choice? Maybe he didn’t. Maybe Chan didn’t have a choice. 

“What can I do?” He whispered, scanning Chan’s face for any sign of stopping. Any sign that he was going to let Minho down. End this now. 

“I’m so sorry, Minnie.”

Chan’s warmth left quickly. And so did Minhos hope for getting free. 

As Hyunjin burned besides him, he could see Chan taking another gas can that someone had given him from the crowd. This was sick. This was sick. 

“Chan please…” Minho whimpered, Hands reaching back up, tugging at the nails harshly. He had to get free. He had to. He couldn’t die. He couldn’t. This was so fucked up. “Chan don’t fucking do it!”

Chan winced, dragging the ladder to Minhos side. No no no. 

“Fucking stop! Don’t do this!” Minho was thrashing again. But it didn’t last long. One nick to the back of the head and he was screaming out in pain. The crown. He had to stop. If he kept moving he’d just hurt himself more. 

Did it matter? 

“I’m so sorry.” Chan repeated as the wetness ran down Minhos legs, up and around his shirt. Into his face. 

It was revolting. This whole situation. It wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be. 

“Please...please?” Minho was watching Chan the best he could, gasoline pouring down his shivering frame. He was coughing again, too. The taste of the gasoline filling his throat. 

He’d suffocate. He was going to fucking suffocate. He needed air. He needed to get out of here. 

Hyunjin. Hyunjin was all black. He wasn’t Hyunjin anymore. Just a hanging reminder of the preppy religious kid. 

This was too much. 

Minho saw Chan slowly make his way down the ladder, watching as the elder choked back a sob of his own. He felt remorse. He cared. He cared. 

He had to. Maybe he’d stop. Maybe he’d quit. It would be over. Minho wouldn’t have to face the same fate as Hyunjin, right? 

“Chan—“ Minho was able to grab onto him. To grab his hood, to hold it. “Don’t…” he was shaking, sobbing uncontrollably and without any other way of stopping. Chan had to take him down. Release him. 

The crowd. More whispers. What was this? Why were they doing this? 

Chan grabbed Minhos hand, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. He cared so Why was he doing this? 

“I-I’m serious. Please don’t do this. Chan I swear I’ll do whatever the fu—whatever you need. Just take me down, okay? I’m not mad. I’m—“ he was hiccuping through his sentence, vision way too blurry now to make much else out. The smell of burning flesh was overpowering that scent of gasoline he liked so much. 

He was going to fucking die. 

“I’m sorry, Minho.” Chan yanked the hand suddenly, returning to the same area of the crowd he’d gone before, laying the red canister down this time. He cared, right? 

“Chan I’m begging you...Channie don’t.” Minho brought his hand back up to the nails again, he had no choice. Chan wasn’t going to stop. He tried so hard, tugging at the rusted nails. He needed to get out of here. 

“Minho Stop, it'll hurt more.” Chan’s voice was so close to his ear. And then it ascended. 

No no no. Fucking no. 

“Stop.” Chan repeated, strain in his voice. 

And then more panic swept over him. He was sweating, enraged, terrified out of his fucking mind. 

Fire. 

This wasn’t happening. He could feel it at the rubber soles of his shoes. Close to his ankles. The heat was too much. This was too much. This wasn’t happening. It wasn’t real. 

“Chan Stop!” Minho was screaming, but he managed to yank a nail, a soft thud at the ground as he started on the other that was holding his hand firm. He had to get out. He had to get out. 

“Minho…” Chan’s voice got close again. And then his hand was pulled down and held tightly. And then his chin was firmly resting in Chan’s grasp. And he was choking, sobbing, trying not to scream but the heat was so bad. He was trying so fucking hard to kick his legs. The ties were too strong. The heat was too hot. It was just too much. 

Minho was going to die, and he didn’t want to. Not at all. 

He was twenty. He had so much time left. There was so much for him to do. He was in school. He was excelling in dance. He was with dorming with an amazing guy—was. 

That was all in the past now. 

Chan’s grasp at his face helped absolutely nothing. Minho was shaking, trying to slam his head back. Maybe if he did that he would die faster. Maybe he wouldn’t be feeling the flames creeping up his waist, wrapping around his chest. Starting to burn his arm. 

Maybe he should—

“Stop…” Chan whispered, lips brushing against Minhos as if the younger wasn’t fucking roasting. He soon pressed his lips firmly against Minhos. But there was no comfort. And Minho couldn’t do anything but scream and thrash his hardest, hand finally tugging away from Chan’s grasp to swat the man away. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want that at all. 

“Make it stop!” He choked out, feeling his chest heaving, skin screaming against the obvious flames making their way down his body, soon his face. He knew it’d reach his face. And his voice. It was giving out. He couldn’t make anymore words. He was running out of time. 

Minho wailed now, forcing his hand back up against the flames at his bound hand, trying his hardest to pull the nail. It was fucking useless. It was all useless. 

His face. It was so hot. He was choking. He couldn’t lift his head and he was coughing. He was struggling. He was still screaming. He could feel his hand under the nails start to wither and melt against the wood. Melt? Was it melting, or was it just breaking apart. He wasn’t sure. This was useless. This was useless. 

He was being consumed. Slowly and so fucking painfully. 

His legs were useless and blackened for sure. The cloth at his skin burnt down to expose his destroyed flesh.He’d be ash soon, wouldn’t he? He couldn’t feel his hand anymore. He couldn’t feel much of anything anymore. He couldn’t breathe. Every sob and every cough got more and more intense with the seconds. 

Chan. Chan just watched him. Minho couldn’t help but let his body rest, mouth slightly gaped as his free hand lost its strength, collapsing down and hanging, flames wrapped around. Flames everywhere. 

He was burning. It was quicker than he thought, but it was excruciating. He couldn’t make anymore sound. Or move. Not anymore. And it hurt so bad. It hurt so much. But not for much longer. He knew that. He knew his body had given in. Given up to the flames that were now destroying his vision. The heat suffocating and the smoke finally starting to reach his lungs. 

He was dying. Surely, slowly. Roasting. As people watched. As Chan watched.

Seconds. He only had seconds. His eyes stayed focused on Chan for as long as they could. The elder was crying. He looked pained, he was mouthing out words. He loved him? He was sorry? Was Minho supposed to forgive Chan? Why was he acting like he was the one who was burning alive? Minhos the one that was lit on fire. Minhos the one that had been screaming till his voice gave out. Minhos the one who wasn’t breathing anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> I promise I love Minho. I know I’ve injured him AGAIN and even focused on his hands again. I apologize. I promise I really do love him lol 
> 
> Anyways, thank you for reading and I hope I tagged everything properly. If I didn’t please let me know. 
> 
> And ps, please don’t join cults.
> 
> Twt: minhodipitous  
> Cc: str4y


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